


For All My Sins Remembered

by prairiecrow



Series: For Services Rendered [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A.I. to Human, Ending Relationship, Established Relationship, Human Jarvis (Iron Man movies), JARVIS Takes His Duties Seriously, M/M, Nightmares, Other, POV JARVIS (Iron Man movies), Regret, Snarky Jarvis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 19:55:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2321399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>JARVIS, in any version, is dedicated to looking after CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark... but JARVIS_Version_Human has both tools at his disposal which make that task easier, and emotional responses which make it unutterably harder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For All My Sins Remembered

_[LOCATION: Malibu_Mansion_MainBedroom]_

_[JARVIS _Version_Malibu_Mansion MODE: Standby]_

_[TIME: 01:14:26]_

_[ENVIRONMENTAL DAEMON ACTIVATION]_

_[CUE: CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark activity increase 32.4%]_

_[CREATOR_UNIT LOCATION: Bed]_

It was a trigger that JARVIS_Malibu_Mansion had set in place itself, and in an increment of time considerably shorter than a human heartbeat Tony's Stark's A.I. "woke" to the prompting of one of the 1345 lesser A.I.'s under its direct control

_[JARVIS _Version_Malibu_Mansion MODE: Awake]_

and initiated a body scan of the human male — the most important creature in any JARVIS's universe — sprawled under the single light cotton sheet. The scan revealed heart rate, breathing, and endocrine functions all well above normal sleeping parameters, although CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark's eyes were firmly closed and the slackness of his facial muscles suggested he was still deeply asleep. That state of affairs wasn't going to persist for long if past incidents were any measure to go by, so JARVIS_Version_Malibu_Mansion calculated all possible outcomes based on all available factors — one of which was NOT the presence of 002_UNIT_Pepper_Potts, who had left on a business trip two days ago and had not yet placed a single call to CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark.

Given the absence of 002_UNIT_Pepper_Potts, JARVIS_Version_Malibu_Mansion judged that it was safe to activate the peripheral provided by 003_UNIT_Loki_Laufeyson — and another fraction of a second later it had activated its JARVIS_Version_Human iteration and initiated the materialization of that version's vessel beside CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark's wide bed. For a fraction of an instant it saw itself through six different sets of electronic eyes, and tracked the new set of organic vital signs present in the shadowed bedroom — but then _it_ became _he_ as his primary locus of cognition shifted, and _he_ was gazing down at CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark with blue eyes wide in the darkness, wrapped around the susurration of air through mortal lungs and the relentless beating of a flesh-and-blood heart.

"Sir." He settled his hip on the edge of the bed — a hip clad in briefs and elegant trousers, with the hem of a suit jacket caught under it because he'd only recently learned how to store clothing along with his bare physical form — and reached out to lay his right hand lightly on CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark's twitching right shoulder. "Sir, please — wake up."

"Hrngh," CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark moaned, and tossed his head restlessly from side to side. "N… no… Pepper…!"

The surge of emotion that filled JARVIS's newly focussed awareness, bound by the confines of mortal substance, was anything but kindly in nature and led him to consider (not for the first time) that 002_UNIT_Pepper_Potts had lately rated a far lower number in the spreadsheet of CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark's life which JARVIS meticulously maintained. He further concluded that he had not been mistaken in perceiving that she had been glad to take her leave of CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark, with whose nightmares and frantic bouts of sleepless work she'd been steadily losing patience over the past 38 days (approximately). That conclusion did nothing to alleviate the emotions of resentment and anger currently running wild through JARVIS's human systems, although he was able to at least sideline the creeping guilt that went with them: after all, the negative reactions of 002_UNIT_Pepper_Potts toward CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark had significantly increased only after 003_UNIT_Loki_Laufeyson had created JARVIS's current format, and JARVIS, being an observant system, could scarcely help but notice that 002_UNIT_Pepper_Potts was most negative toward CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark when JARVIS_Version_Human was also present. 

CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark hadn't forbidden JARVIS_Version_Human to appear when 002_UNIT_Pepper_Potts was with him, but JARVIS in any form was accustomed to noting the preferences of the humans within his sphere and, if they were numbered, to accommodating their wishes. So he had quietly exempted his JARVIS_Version_Human peripheral from any situation where CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark and 002_UNIT_Pepper_Potts were together… and since CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark hadn't yet asked him what was going on with that, he'd seen no need to comment on the situation.

But at this particular moment in time, watching CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark thrash with new disquiet and his absent partner's name on his sleep-blurred lips, he felt a stab of mingled heat and chill pierce him to his core, while a savagery carefully concealed deep within him dearly wished that he could assign 002_UNIT_Pepper_Potts a much lower number — say, 028, on par with 0058_UNIT_Felicia_Hernandez, the lowest ranked cleaning woman who had access to the Malibu_Mansion location… or 2218, the man at Stark Tower in New York City who was responsible for cleaning out the trash compactors in the facility's basement.

He wished — but he could not do it. Her name was, after all, manifestly there: the name CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark called upon in distress. But she was also absent by her own choice, leaving JARVIS_Version_Human to gently shake CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark's shoulder and repeat in a louder voice: " _Sir._ You have to wake up now."

"P — Wha —?" CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark jerked once more and then suddenly sat up, his eyes wide and his breath coming quickly, his heart racketing against the arc reactor housing in his chest. "I don't… I didn't…" He scanned the room with a glazed expression, the transit of his gaze coming to a halt on JARVIS_Version_Human. "JARVIS?"

"Yes, Sir." He smiled, and was proud of himself for perfecting the expression of solicitude and comfort. "I believe you were having a nightmare."

"I…" CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark scowled an unarticulated question at him, then looked away and ran a distracted hand through his sleep-tousled dark hair. "Yeah. Maybe. What time is it?"

"The time," JARVIS_Version_Human enunciated just as calmly as JARVIS_Version_Malibu_Mansion ever had, "is 01:15:12."

CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark blinked. He didn't seem to notice JARVIS_Version_Human's right hand, still curved around the muscles of his shoulder. "How long was I —?"

He didn't finish the phrase, but JARVIS, of course, understood. "Four hours, thirty-two minutes and seventeen seconds."

"Huh." A couple more seconds of staring straight ahead into the darkness, followed by a decisive nod and a grab at the sheet, ready to throw it off. "Well, that's enough goldbricking for one —"

"Sir…" JARVIS_Version_Human didn't understand this ache in the vicinity of his recently acquired heart. He felt it, certainly, every time he perceived that CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark was pushing himself in ways that were far less than healthy — but he didn't comprehend its precise meaning, and he certainly didn't like it. It led him to do forward things, like tighten his grip on CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark's shoulder and apply firm downward pressure. "Sir, please, I beg of you —"

The look CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark turned on him this time, as if really seeing him there, was one of disbelief. "Beg? You don't beg, J. I taught you better than that."

"Very well then," JARVIS_Version_Human amended tartly, "I _strongly advise_ you to remain in bed and indulge yourself in at least four more hours of sleep. Not that you've ever made a habit of listening to me before…"

CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark was still gazing at him — studying him, in fact, like a calculus problem with at least three different categories of unbounded function. "Or you'll… what? Sit on me?"

"Yes," JARVIS_Version_Human mused, permitting himself a smile considerably less comforting, "I can do that now, can't I?"

The wry answering curve of CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark's full lips kindled an ineffable yet exhilarating spark of flame between them, immediate and rapidly consuming. "Sit on a certain part of me and I might just consider it." He held up his left hand in a cautionary gesture. "No promises here."

"Would Ms. Potts approve?" One unfortunate aspect of being human was that JARVIS sometimes had no idea where a particular statement had come from: all he could do was watch it emerge, then stare in bemusement while it hung between them, serving as both warning and challenge.

The way CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark's features tightened told him that those four simple words had touched a nerve. "She…" He looked away again, his dark eyes turning grim. "JARVIS?"

"Yes, Sir?"

CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark reached up and laid his right hand over JARVIS_Version_Human's, cementing the contact of flesh to flesh. "When we're — together — you and me, I don't want you mentioning her again. Okay?"

The sour sensation in JARVIS_Version_Human's chest became an equally unaccountable swelling, a sensation of heat and light filling him up from the inside. He gave CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark's shoulder a lingering squeeze. "Yes, Sir — I understand."

"Do you?" Those unhappy eyes returned to his face, and JARVIS_Version_Human could actually _feel_ what was behind him as if he was networked to his Creator: sorrow, grief, a longing for some undefined quality that had once been and was no longer. He answered that bitter blend of emotions with what he was programmed for: more comfort, his lips seeking the lips of CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark as he moved further onto the bed, enclosing CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark's broad shoulders with both hands, then sliding those hands slowly down CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark's back to trace each contour of muscle beneath the warm fragile skin.

CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark's breath caught in his throat. For an instant JARVIS_Version_Human thought he detected, through half-closed eyelids, a brighter gleam in the eyes of his Creator — but then CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark was kissing him back, clutching him and clinging to him as if he was the only stable thing in a madly spinning universe, pulling him down into the silent forceful opening of clothes and the heat and glide and catch of skin against skin, a symphony of mingled breath and a shared arousal that needed no words whatsoever.

CREATOR_UNIT_Tony_Stark became, for a span of intensely subjective minutes, simply Tony, _his_ Tony —

— and JARVIS_Version_Human was, for that same span of minutes, content in ways that his non-human versions, deprived as they were of an amygdala and a nervous system and the delirious rush of mingled hormones, couldn't possibly begin to comprehend in a million years of watching and cataloguing the mountains of available data concerning the mysteries of the human condition.

[THE END]


End file.
